


unimaginable

by norannas



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Mistress Meets Wife, i don't ship marliza, mentions of cheating, this is not a love story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 09:58:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15531774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norannas/pseuds/norannas
Summary: In a perfect world, this entire mess would have been some cruel joke on Eliza. Unfortunately, this is not a perfect world, not for her anyways. So what's wrong with knowing both sides of a story?





	unimaginable

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't a marliza story and not a hamliza story. simply a take on a small conversation if eliza and maria ever met each other.

Angelica stayed with Eliza for the duration of however long she’s been grieving.  Peggy came along shortly after to join her sisters. The amount of raw sadness that had filled Eliza was so unnatural of her.  Usually, she was so kind, so strained and kind. But this new Eliza, one her sisters have never seen before was not only filled with sadness, but rage.  The urge to smash everything in her bedchamber, the temptation to burn every single letter.  The feeling of wanting to take the kids and just flee the area, move somewhere else and start over with a new life.

 

But Eliza can’t and she won’t.  Alexander was so kind, so loving that she could never imagine that any of this mess was his doing completely.  A part of Eliza wanted to come to the agreement that he just wanted attention after all that has happened. He would never do something like this, not to her.  This was not the Alexander she knew and loved.

 

Her sisters, Alexander, and every other person who knew Eliza close enough could easily assume that she would never hurt a fly.  That she was so pure and so kind, would easily brush off such a thing like this and instantly find forgiveness. She’s so tired of being the one who is naive, the one who has to forgive and move on.  But she couldn’t forgive, she couldn't.  It was not that simple, for this was an unforgivable act.  She knew she Alexander so well enough that she knew he would never mean to hurt her, or so she thought.  After all, it’s one thing to lash out or lose his temper against someone, a political enemy or an enemy overall.  But it’s another thing to bring a woman into his bed, their bed.  It was as if this was just another one of his reckless decisions only a child would make, with no hesitations or limits, without thinking of others, their thoughts, and how they feel.

 

“I want to talk to Mrs. Reynolds,” Eliza argued.  Angelica was petting her hair as the both of them were perched on the bed, while Peggy was sitting on the floor positioned up-right on both of her knees.

 

“That would not be wise of you,” Peggy advised, Eliza scoffed in response.  And the tears, not of sadness, but of the raw anger that often filled her, were watering in her eyes.

 

“Why can’t I? It is not like I would do anything rash or make matters worse. I would just like to speak to her and understand what has happened,” she asked, defensive.  Eliza was content that this was the right thing to do.

 

“Because, dear sister, we don’t know this woman and we don’t know her morals. What would Alexander do?” Angelica said, running her hands through a particular knot in her younger sister’s hair. “When was the last time you took care of your hair?”

 

Eliza knew what Angelica was doing.  She always did this when in doubt. She would come up with some reasonably logical reason to not act in the moment without thinking things through, then change the subject to throw Eliza off the topic.  But Eliza was not dealing with any of this nonsense anymore. The impulse decision was to go visit this woman, ask her what happened and what her intentions were, and then get in and out of that house as quick as possible, lastly act like absolutely nothing happened.

 

“If this was Alexander, he would write another pamphlet,” Eliza sneered, gritting her teeth in utter dread.  Angelica bit her lip and shared a look with Peggy.

 

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Peggy said firmly.  Eliza rolled her eyes. Too late for that.

 

“If anything, it would make me feel better about the situation. I just want to know when, how, and why it happened. It would help if I knew both sides of the story. And I do not wish to speak to my husband on this matter, so why not visit the girl myself?” Eliza replied in a matter-of-factly tone.

 

“I have to agree with Peggy,” Angelica admitted.

 

“Well I do not have to act on your wishes! I’m tired, so tired of being the one who always has to think and plan out for everything. Why won’t anybody let me make an impulse decision without feeling any sense of regret?”

 

“Because,” Angelica said, putting a hand on her sister’s shoulder, “being impulsive always leads to regrets, no matter the situation. You can not be so vulnerable to the idea.”

 

“But what about Peggy getting married? What about all those times we would sneak into the city? What about me having Philip? Those were all impulse decisions and all they have led to is happiness for myself and others,” Eliza argued.

 

For a moment, Peggy had a look of defeat on her face. “Those were… easier situations to make a decision. This is different, this is speaking to your husband’s mistress on a matter of great importance.”

 

There was venom in her younger sister’s voice when she said the word ‘mistress.'

 

“There is nothing any of you can say to convince me otherwise,” Eliza said sharply, rising from the bed and grabbing her coat, “so don’t try to stop me!”

 

She walked out of the room and slammed the door behind her.

 

When Eliza arrived downstairs, everything was going on in the house as usual.  The smaller children were playing quietly yet carefree in corners, and Angie and Philip were whispering to each other in hushed voices.  If there was a complete moment of silence, she could hear a snippet of Alexander’s quill against parchment and the occasional grunt when he made an error inside his office.  Once Philip and Angie saw their mother, they instantly stopped whispering as if she was the subject of what they could be conversing over.

“Heading off Mama?” Angie asked, eyeing her mother with the familiar coat she wore when she was travelling outside of the house.

 

“Yes, but just for a little while,” Eliza explained, smiling at her daughter.

 

“Are you visiting anyone?” Philip pressed suspiciously.  

 

“Just an acquaintance of mine,” she lied.

 

And with that, Eliza was gone.

* * *

 

The house that the carriage arrived at was small in comparison to Eliza’s own.  In fact, it was small in comparison to the others on the street. Breathing deeply, she approached the entrance and gave a sharp knock.  Within seconds, there were footsteps, and sounded like there was more than one person answering the door.

 

When the door was opened it revealed one short woman with tan skin, dark curls that cascaded down her back and the front of her shoulders, and a deep red dress that was low-cut around her chest.  Eliza easily assumed that this was Maria. And right next to her was a smaller girl who looked to be around ten years old. She looked very similar to Maria, and Eliza also easily assumed this was her daughter.

 

“What can I help you with?” Maria asked softly.  There was no rudeness in her tone like Eliza’s sisters assumed she would have.

 

“You are Maria Reynolds, correct?” she inquired.

 

Maria flashed Eliza a small smile and nodded. “Yes, that’s me.”

 

“I’m Eliza-”

 

She didn’t even have to say her last name before Maria’s expression changed to shock, and she pulled her inside the house by her hands.

 

“Mrs. Hamilton, your husband spoke so godly of you and I deeply apologize for all of the wrongs I’ve done to your marriage, I feel so terrible for doing everything after all that has happened-”  
  
Eliza shushed her when she noticed that her daughter was still standing next to her with a confused expression.  Maria quickly told her to go up to her room for a few minutes.

 

 "Sorry about Susan. She's at very delicate age, and-"

 

“Slow down,” Eliza advised as she was led to sit down at nearby table.  Maria sat across from her with, fidgeting quietly, not daring to look up.

 

“I’m assuming you would like to know what happened?” Maria questioned.  Eliza nodded in response.

 

“My husband is a terrible man,” she started, “he’s always gone, but when he isn’t, he’s _worse_. He cheats, he drinks, and he abuses. You’re lucky to have a husband who cares about you.”  
  
Eliza flinched. Cares?

 

“And we get money for doing this,” she admitted softly, her eyes looking in the direction of her daughter’s room.

 

“What?” Eliza inquired.

 

Maria bit her lip, fidgeting once more. “When this whole mess started in the first place, both of us were able to pay our taxes and pay off anything we needed.”

 

“You mean it helped you financially?”

 

“It helped a lot.”

 

She looked around in silence, studying the woman’s house.  It was slightly messy with broken glass, wood, and most of the decor was scattered around in different places.  It wasn’t exact the ideal home for her, and she couldn’t imagine it was a place Maria would particularly like to stay at.  But she understands that she couldn’t leave and why.

 

Eliza shifted in her seat and the uneven chair hit the other side of the ground, causing her to almost fall off the unsteady seat.  
  
“Sorry about that,” Maria sighed, turning red.

 

“So how exactly did it happen?” Eliza asked, changing the subject.

 

“We met, not here, but in Philadelphia. I had approached him, telling him that my husband was suddenly gone and I didn’t know what to do. I knew who he was and what he’s done,” she managed to choke out.  Eliza felt her face burn up.

 

“He was very kind. Offered me some money and a walk home. By the time we approached my house, well…”

 

“He provoked you?” Eliza asked firmly.

 

“No - no. I’m the one who started the whole thing,” she clarified.

 

Oh.

 

“So he did nothing?” Eliza asked.

 

Maria bit her lip again, she didn’t know exactly what to say.

 

“And your husband found out. He was angry?” Eliza continued anxiously.

 

The younger woman’s eyes watered. “No, he - he knew but not that I, well…”

 

Maria trailed off and a sob escaped her mouth.  She began to cry, holding her arms over her face so Eliza wouldn’t see how messy she was.  For a moment, she tried to see this woman through the eyes of anger she felt earlier. But she couldn’t.  There was pity overwhelming her heart.

 

“Does your daughter know?” Eliza asked softly.  Maria looked up at the older woman with puffy red eyes and trembling lip.

 

“I could never,” she whispered, voice breaking, “she’s so young and I can’t imagine what it would be like if she knew everything after all that has happened.”

 

“I’m sorry,” was all that Eliza said in response.

 

Silence.  

 

Maria was trying not to start crying again.  Eliza had her eyes fixed on the torn up floor.

 

“I must take my leave,” Eliza said abruptly, standing up from her chair, making to rock a bit.  She wordlessly headed towards the door.

 

“Wait,” Maria said softly, Eliza spun around to face the younger woman.

 

“I’m sorry. Forgive me for everything,” Maria said quietly.

 

She said nothing in response.

* * *

 

The ride in the carriage was almost unpleasant.  No one was there but her, no one was there to converse with her or break any uncomfortable periods of silence.  Eliza felt more alone than ever. From hearing everything through Maria’s eyes, the words from her mouth, it made her feel horrible.  She almost felt greedy for not thinking how much this entire mess might have affected both sides of the story.

 

When she arrived at her own residence, the familiar sense of dread filled her.  The first time she felt this day was the moment that the pamphlet was released. But she walked in the house feeling different from a moment ago.  Relief, she could exhale now knowing that she finally had closure of what had happened, not information that was released on paper. It was different.

 

Peggy and Angelica were sitting down together, talking to each other similar to Angie and Philip were before she left.

 

“How was it?” Peggy asked immediately once she saw Eliza in the doorway.  

 

She shrugged.

 

“Was it bad?” Angelica mused, concerned.

 

“No.”

 

“Was it good?”

 

"No."

 

With that, she retreated upstairs silently.  Nothing was confusing, but it wasn’t clear.

**Author's Note:**

> so, you like it?
> 
> go follow my tumblr, elizahamllton.tumblr.com


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